HORSE // The Spiegeltent, NNF2012 - 15.05.2012
"It’s all ‘Ride me hard’ and ‘show us your horse box’ in a double-entendre filled entertainment that takes some increasingly odd flights of fancy." - Louisa reviews Flick Ferdinando's one-woman show...
I never understood girls at school who swore teenage boys couldn’t compete with the dignified majesty of a chestnut stallion. I may have been converted after watching Horse, Flick Ferdinando’s one woman show dedicated to all things equine. It’s a surreal hour of comedy, burlesque and physical theatre that takes the plaintive cry of ‘Daddy I want a pony!’ to its wonderfully twisted yet weirdly logical conclusion. It’s all ‘Ride me hard’ and ‘show us your horse box’ in a double-entendre filled entertainment that takes some increasingly odd flights of fancy.
After entering to the innocent sound of the black beauty theme tune and clip clopping coconut shells, Flick Ferdinando immediately got the audience on side as a jovial country type dressed in tweed, hideous head scarf and jodhpurs. She bantered easily with the crowd, admiring their manes and complimenting their teeth before sitting down on a hay bale to have a recitation of the ‘Pony Club’s guide for riders’. This is where wholesome pursuits took a turn for the perverse as the book turned out to be the character’s idea of an erotic classic. The audience hooted with laughter as she hooted with lust.
After that light but saucy start to ease us into Ferdinando’s mad world she presented a wealth of characters. A pony filled with childlike optimism that enters a gymkhana only to be shot in the leg. A burlesque dancer who impresses not only with her riding crop but also her crudely long horsey tongue with a mind of its own. Then there was the priestly figure who has substituted her crucifix for a horse shoe and worshipped ‘Mother Mare and Almighty Horse’ before trying to exorcise the audience. My personal favourite was the circus showgirl who had to contend with a runaway steed as she tried to dance, expertly realised using a gym horse and some great mime.
It was a dizzying collection of ideas and since there was no narrative to speak of, the show relied utterly on Ferdinando’s gifts as a performer. She has a particular flair for comedy, her face constantly in motion, wide-eyed and gurning or winking conspiratorially. She cultivated a great rapport with the audience which meant we were more likely to stay engaged when the paced slowed (several costume changes lagged) or the weirdness upped a notch. In fact the show can be summed up best by an exchange I overheard as Ferdinando hurled herself into a trough full of water. Wife to husband: ‘What’s she doing now?’ Husband to Wife: ‘I have absolutely no idea.’ Both of them had massive grins on their faces, confused but delighted.
Louisa Theobald
I never understood girls at school who swore teenage boys couldn’t compete with the dignified majesty of a chestnut stallion. I may have been converted after watching Horse, Flick Ferdinando’s one woman show dedicated to all things equine. It’s a surreal hour of comedy, burlesque and physical theatre that takes the plaintive cry of ‘Daddy I want a pony!’ to its wonderfully twisted yet weirdly logical conclusion. It’s all ‘Ride me hard’ and ‘show us your horse box’ in a double-entendre filled entertainment that takes some increasingly odd flights of fancy.
After entering to the innocent sound of the black beauty theme tune and clip clopping coconut shells, Flick Ferdinando immediately got the audience on side as a jovial country type dressed in tweed, hideous head scarf and jodhpurs. She bantered easily with the crowd, admiring their manes and complimenting their teeth before sitting down on a hay bale to have a recitation of the ‘Pony Club’s guide for riders’. This is where wholesome pursuits took a turn for the perverse as the book turned out to be the character’s idea of an erotic classic. The audience hooted with laughter as she hooted with lust.
After that light but saucy start to ease us into Ferdinando’s mad world she presented a wealth of characters. A pony filled with childlike optimism that enters a gymkhana only to be shot in the leg. A burlesque dancer who impresses not only with her riding crop but also her crudely long horsey tongue with a mind of its own. Then there was the priestly figure who has substituted her crucifix for a horse shoe and worshipped ‘Mother Mare and Almighty Horse’ before trying to exorcise the audience. My personal favourite was the circus showgirl who had to contend with a runaway steed as she tried to dance, expertly realised using a gym horse and some great mime.
It was a dizzying collection of ideas and since there was no narrative to speak of, the show relied utterly on Ferdinando’s gifts as a performer. She has a particular flair for comedy, her face constantly in motion, wide-eyed and gurning or winking conspiratorially. She cultivated a great rapport with the audience which meant we were more likely to stay engaged when the paced slowed (several costume changes lagged) or the weirdness upped a notch. In fact the show can be summed up best by an exchange I overheard as Ferdinando hurled herself into a trough full of water. Wife to husband: ‘What’s she doing now?’ Husband to Wife: ‘I have absolutely no idea.’ Both of them had massive grins on their faces, confused but delighted.
Louisa Theobald
